


Lifeline

by babykpats



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mickey in Mexico, Post Season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 14:51:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11315685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babykpats/pseuds/babykpats
Summary: After living in Mexico for a year, circumstances happened that led to Mickey having the option to freely come back to the US.Will he take them up on that offer?





	Lifeline

Ian was passing by a small cafe on his way home when he saw something that forced him to stop in his tracks.

It was Mickey’s face plastered on the front page. 

But it wasn’t the same photo that donned Wanted posters littering the Southside a year ago.

This photo was more recent.

Mickey looked smaller somehow, despite the fact that the photo only showed his face. He looked older too, beyond the year’s worth of aging he was supposed to have since the last time Ian saw him.

That didn’t stop the staccato beat of Ian’s heart though. His heart carried on the quick beat-beat-beat as Ian picked the newspaper up and moved his eyes towards the article accompanying the photo.

Ian frowned as he worked his way through the article up until the journalist’s byline at the very bottom.

What the fuck.

He started back over to the beginning of the article rereading every single word under the headline that read “Chicago’s Most Wanted Granted Pardon”.

Ian’s eyes slowly became unfocused as he forced himself to understand the situation.

Apparently, some shit was happening in Mexico and Mickey stepped into the line of fire to save someone’s life. They were willing to bring him back and give him a proper hearing.

Mickey was coming back.

When?

Ian scanned the article once more.

One week.

Ian hurriedly checked the date of the paper and the staccato of his heart took on a heavier downswing. The paper was from last week.

Mickey’s here.

Mickey’s back.

Ian surrendered his initial route towards the apartment he shared with Trevor and instead made his way back to the Gallagher house.

He yanked open the front door, ran inside and fought to bring some air into his lungs. Mickey is back.

Fiona slowly made her way over to her little brother who was doubled over, somehow wheezing and panting at the same time. This only meant one thing. “So I take it you read the paper?”

Ian froze, frowned and looked up in one fluid motion. “You knew?”

Fiona nodded. “Trevor called last week on the verge of hyperventilating.”

“He knows?”

Fiona half-shrugged. “He was scared of what you’ll do.”

Ian shook himself deciding to focus on more pressing matters. “But Mickey’s here. Back in Chicago.” His mind was flying everywhere at once.

“Ian.” Fiona said to no avail. Ian was in his own world, murmuring questions, not pausing to wait for answers.

“Where is he staying? How is he? Have you seen him? Is he back at their house?” Ian shot off one question after the other failing to hear his sister's voice amidst the voices in his own head.

“Ian.” Fiona tried again.

“Has he seen me? What if I walked past him on the street but I didn’t recognize him? He looks so different on the paper.” Ian muttered.

“He declined it.” Fiona said.

That made Ian stop. “What?”

Fiona gave Ian a sad smile. “He declined the offer to come back.”

“Why?” Ian asked as he felt the air travel out of his body.

Fiona shrugged. “His interview was all over Facebook. I didn’t have time to watch the whole thing, I just read the title.” She made her way back to the kitchen to give Ian some privacy.

Ian made his way towards their couch, sat down and pulled up Facebook on his phone. A couple notifications popped up but he ignored them in favor of scrolling down his feed.

After a few moments, he found it.

His finger hovered over the little Play icon before he tapped on it, quickly adjusting the volume.

“Did you know who you were saving?” The interviewer asked with a light Mexican accent.

Mickey chuckled. “Nah man. Had I known, I would’ve walked away considering half the people who work for him is looking to put me behind bars.”

The interviewer chuckled. “Run us through your thought process during the whole situation.”

Mickey sighed. “Well, I work in the seedy part of town so things like that happened a lot. While I was walking home from work, I saw that this time, they had more people involved with bigger guns. Honestly, at that moment, I was just pissed that I had to take the long way home.”

The interviewer nodded politely.

Ian inhaled and exhaled, eyes fixed on Mickey’s face.

“Then I saw something different. I saw a couple white guys in the mix. Usually there'd be some stupid tourists who want to test the status quo down here and find themselves in life or death situations but this time it was different. The stand-off was bigger and tensed, you know? Like one wrong move and bullets are gonna be flying.”

“What defined your next move?” The interviewer asked.

Ian huffed in frustration when the man interrupted Mickey.

“Well, that day, I had a really long day so I just wanted to get back home as quick as possible so I figured that things were gonna blow up soon enough so I decided to wait instead of walking two miles off from my usual route.”

“What happened after?” The man asked Mickey.

“Well, they were holding down an old guy who looked like we was about to pass out and I felt bad for him. He was the oldest dude there and he looked completely harmless so I kept thinking how in the hell he got himself in that situation. Then gunshots started ringing throughout the area and I just ran over to the old man, picked him up and brought him home.” Mickey chuckled. “Never thought I’d say that exact sentence in my life.”

Ian chuckled as well.

“Now you mentioned that you really just wanted to get home that day but now that you have the chance to go home, to Chicago, a chance to clear all charges, you declined.”

Mickey sighed. “Chicago isn’t home for me. Hasn’t been for the longest time. When I escaped, I just took everything important to me and started running off towards the border. I thought I could make Mexico my home.” Mickey shrugged.

“Have you succeeded in making Mexico your home?”

“Nah. I lost a couple of things before crossing the border. Things that could've helped make Mexico my new home.” Mickey paused. “But hey, takes time right?”

The interviewer nodded. “Now that the whole US is watching, do you have a message for them?”

Mickey froze. “Um. Hi?”

Ian couldn’t help but smile at that.

The interviewer frowned, probably pissed that he didn’t get an emotional message for a nice human interest angle but he quickly composed himself. “There you have it. The ex-con who unknowingly emerged as the hero during a hostage situation held by one of the most notorious gangs in Mexico.”

The video ended abruptly.

Ian watched the video once more, taking in everything that was Mickey. His voice, his face, his smile. That was Mickey. His Mickey.

Ian closed the app and opened the Messaging app instead. He typed in a number that he has long since deleted from his contacts, but for some reason he couldn’t delete from his actual memory.

He hesitated, but shrugged as he typed a short message.

_ You look good Mick. _

Ian hit send before he could change his mind.

This was their lifeline.

After Mickey made it across the border, he made Ian promise never to change his number.

_ “I don’t fucking care if you don’t talk to me ever again, Gallagher just - fuck - just promise me you won’t change your number and I won’t change mine, alright? Just in case I’m in my deathbed and I wanna send over a final fuck you, alright? You owe me that much.” _

_ Ian chuckled through his tears. “Okay. I promise. But I’m trying to move on, Mick. I can’t do that if you won’t let me.” _

_ “I ain’t gonna fucking be on your ass everyday Gallagher. I need to move on too. I just need a fucking lifeline.” Mickey answered. _

That was the last time Ian heard from Mickey. That was their final phone call. Everything after that was radio silence.

Ian’s phone went off with a soft beep.

He took a couple deep breathes before tapping the little bubble to open the message.

_ Sorry, who’s this? _


End file.
